


Explode or Implode

by Cassiopeia12727



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, MSR, Romance, Season/Series 06, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiopeia12727/pseuds/Cassiopeia12727
Summary: Mulder and Scully have been dancing around their romantic feelings for years. Who will break and make the first move?
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59





	1. Implode

**Author's Note:**

> Even though the lyrics don't match the plot, I got the idea for this story from the The Cardigans song  
> ['Explode'](https://open.spotify.com/track/4c2ahpg0cv7VZ7SZG5DnYl). It always makes me think about how different people deal with emotions differently.  
> This takes place during season 6, sometime after Dreamland.  
> A huge THANK YOU to [AweburnPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AweburnPhoenix) for taking the time to beta this! You don't know how much your input means to me. I hope you like what I did with it.  
> Disclaimer: Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions own The X-Files and all associated characters. I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this story or episodes, movies, music, or other media referenced in it.

The darkness mixed with the heady scent of his sweat and his aftershave. He had been jogging right before stopping by her place, the rap on her door unmistakably his.

No words were exchanged after she unlocked the door to let him in. Within the same movement of crossing the threshold, he cupped the sides of her face with his palms and pulled her in for a passionate kiss.

His pillowy lips subdued any questions that she may have had about where this was coming from and where it was headed. All that mattered was him, here, with her.

Before she knew it, she was being guided backwards into her bedroom. Finding the doorknob blindly behind her, she pushed the door open with her backside.

She was amazed at her mind's ability to process the myriad of senses that came rushing in all at once: The smell of his body, the fragrance of his black leather jacket and its sound as he slid out of it and let it fall on the bedroom floor; the feeling of his stubble against her cheek, as his lips explored her neck.

"Dana!" His raspy gasp as he gently pushed her onto the bed made her dizzy with desire.

His hot breath in her ear seemed to tickle in the most delectable way, while his hands in her hair made her whole body tingle.

They were both still fully dressed, but she felt like she was falling apart at the anticipation.

"Mulder!" she moaned, the sheets that she was clenching desperately the only thing tethering her to reality.

Just as she was reaching up to pull him down on her, panting...

Scully woke up drenched. Just a dream. Again.

She both loved and hated those nightly fantasies. They usually came after an especially long workday, inspired by random touches and longing gazes exchanged between her and her "partner" (unfortunately, only in the professional sense). It was becoming increasingly unbearable to hide what had transpired in her dreams the night before when she returned to the office the following day.

She felt that she would implode from the tension if this kept up.

Her thoughts wandered to Mulder's silhouette lying in the darkness of his apartment on his couch, his chest rising and falling with every breath in one of his fitted shirts. His mind would still be racing, in spite of his body being worn down from the exertions of the day. Most likely, she wouldn't cross his mind, until a thought hit him and he dialed her number to share some new insight on a case with her. Meanwhile, she, the deceivingly cool and distant one, could think about nothing but him when the light faded and the shadows grew longer. Now that these intense dreams had started, even sleep didn't give her rest, when Mulder kept relentlessly pacing the quarters of her mind, his feet leaving imprints in the most vulnerable places.

It didn't help when she tried to tell herself that what she had felt, no matter how intense it was, was just a figment of her imagination, because she _knew_ that that simply wasn't true. She _had_ felt his hands on her face before many times, and she had even had the pleasure of tasting his lips on her mouth, although not for a romantic kiss.

When it came to filling in the gaps of what could have been, one particular incident (the one that occurred not too long before the kiss of life) came to mind. How often did he think about what had transpired in that hallway? They never spoke about it, but more often than not, it was all she could think about in those silent moments that hung between them untouched, like she had been waiting for him for so long. And when they were apart, everything reminded her of him. She often caught herself doing things as if they were her personal in-jokes, reliving the memory, like eating yogurt with pollen that she had bought under the pretense of making healthy lifestyle choices, just because it was _bee_ pollen. She now despised bees, but that feeling was only channeling her passion for what that one representative of its species had done to her, to them.

Why were these dream encounters always shrouded in darkness? Was it the secrecy of their one-of-a-kind relationship or the thrill of hiding in the shadows, just out of plain sight?

Scully was well aware of the fact that looking now would only distress her more, making it increasingly impossible for her to go back to sleep, but she couldn't help it. She exhaled deeply when she rolled over to glance at the digital alarm clock display. 11:21 PM. This was going to be a long night.

Her restlessness made sleeping impossible. Every fiber of her being wanted to call him and confess.

Whenever she saw headlights through the curtains, her heart rate quickened. Every time she heard the faintest noise in the hallway, she startled. She kept rolling towards the phone, waiting for one of his many late calls. She wanted him to talk to her about work, aliens, anything. She just needed to hear his voice.

"Dana!" that flashback to the deep desperate croak from her feverish dream broke the night like a lightning bolt, its afterimage barely fading even after the dream had long passed. Scully spent most of the remainder of the night tossing and turning, replaying the camera reel of images of what she had dreamed and what she had experienced in reality.

It was around 4 AM when she finally drifted off, this time into sleepless oblivion.


	2. Explode

Mulder had made efforts to change their relationship, starting with random touches, then comforting hugs, then he finally attempted to kiss his partner, which should have completed their 5-year-long courtship. It was ironic that when the timing was finally perfect for them, natural forces, in the form of a bee, had intervened. If the tension had not become so unbearable, so heavy that one could cut it with a knife, Mulder would have seen it as a sign by some all-powerful agent of chastity that they were just not meant to be anything but professional partners and friends.

The funny thing was that now that they had come so close to kissing, making another attempt almost seemed more difficult than before the first try, as they had not talked about the event at all, acting as if they were back to their "platonic" relationship, which wasn't really platonic to begin with. Mulder didn't really know what it was anymore, at least not from Scully's point of view. Most likely, the fact that they had become so accustomed to sharing personal space and long intimate looks meant that Mulder had to take quick and bold steps. His previous strategy of taking things slowly and dropping hints clearly hadn't worked. However, he already knew that confessing his love would not suffice, as he had already tried that method, only for Scully to think that he was delirious or joking.

Lately, it seemed like his partner's walls were up again, and Mulder wasn't sure why. Despite her attempts at a poker face, he could tell that there was a tornado of emotions raging in Scully's head. He was praying that they weren't negative and that they didn't relate to him. He knew that he could be a jerk sometimes, but he had tried hard to not give her reason to be upset with him recently. If he ever wanted to have another go at it, he had to be in excellent standing with her.

Mulder was observing Scully from his position behind his desk, leaning back casually in his office chair, while she was reading through the case report that he had typed up, on time, before the deadline. Mulder was really proud of himself, but Scully didn't seem impressed, or, if she was, she didn't show it. She was turned away from him, half-leaning, half-seated on the edge of his desk. With the way that they were sitting, Mulder had a great view of both her face and her ass. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and fitted blazer, both of which nicely accentuated her curves. Mulder could see dust motes flying around her in the artificial light that illuminated her hair. Her perfect face was all business, eyebrows raised, ruby lips pursed. A penny for her thoughts.

"Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" Mulder mumbled, smirking, the words muffled by the sunflower seed between his teeth.  
"Pardon?" Scully's head shot up, her face bearing a look of confusion.  
"Oh, nothing", Mulder lied sheepishly. _Coward!_  
Scully sent him a brief quizzical look, then went back to studying the report.  
Meanwhile, Mulder kept studying her.  
Although he already knew the answer that he would receive, he asked, "Scully, are you okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Scully replied, as usual, not even bothering to look up.  
"You've been very distant, lately," Mulder remarked, his tone warm and concerned.  
"I've had a lot of things on my mind," Scully responded vaguely.  
Mulder pressed. "Like what?"  
Scully sighed deeply and put down the report.  
"Mulder, I'm never going to finish this report, if you keep distracting me like that." Her tone did not convey the annoyance that her words suggested. She was merely stating the obvious, saying what she had told him so many times, just like they had had one-way conversations about her well-being thousands of times. Their glances and gestures had overtaken the function of day-to-day verbal communication long ago. Mulder thought he had seen Scully face blush when she delivered her answer, but he wasn't sure. Had she perhaps reddened in anger instead?

"Scully, did I do something wrong?" Mulder ventured, his voice low and hesitant.  
He had stopped dipping back in his chair and taken a break from his sunflower seeds to convey his sincerity.  
"Really, Mulder, I'm fine," Scully assured him. "I've just been having these dreams. They’ve been making me lose sleep."  
Mulder's jaw clenched. She must have been reliving some of her traumatic past experiences. Was it the abduction? The death of her sister? The cancer that she had overcome? The loss of Emily? Maybe she had nightmares about her future at the Bureau, due to her work with him.  
"You know that you can always talk to me," Mulder bent over the desk to bridge some of the distance between them, his voice soft and confidential.

Scully put down the report again, carefully placing it on the desk.  
She heaved another deep sigh, then glanced down and rubbed her forehead.  
"This is not the kind of dream that I could tell you about," she confessed almost shyly.  
Mulder wasn't sure where she was going with this, but now he needed to know what it was that she didn't feel she could share.  
"You could tell me anything, Scully. I would never judge. I am just here to listen. I swear I will keep my mouth shut, if you want me to or offer advice. I just don't want you to lose sleep over whatever it is." The words were spilling from his lips in a gentle mumble.

Scully waved him off. "It was nothing, really. It was just a dream about... you."  
His partner's response seemed to confirm Mulder's worst fears. He had been right with his suspicion. She was losing sleep over her work with him. She probably feared the next attack or kidnapping; the next killer that would try to drag her out of her own home.  
"I'm so sorry," was all he could mutter. His hazel eyes darkened with pain. He had brought this on her. As always.  
"Oh no, no no!" Scully stammered. "It's not like that at all! The dreams aren't negative." She was looking him straight in the eyes again, her gaze reflecting her most sincere apology.  
Mulder was utterly confused now.  
Why were her dreams about him keeping her up at night, if they weren't negative? They were making her more distant, after all.  
Unless...

Mulder hesitated. Scully's wide eyes and the way she had frozen mid-movement implied that she had just made a confession that she had originally intended to hold back.  
He slowly got up and rounded the table. Standing in front of Scully, he gently took her hands into his and looked her deep in the eye.  
He couldn't bring himself to get the words out right away. After all, he was walking on very thin ice. This could be the beginning of so much or the end of it all.

"Scully, I've been dreaming about you, too." He bashfully bit his lip, searching her face for signs that he should retreat before it was too late.  
There were none.  
She was looking right at him, expectantly, surprised, but not taken aback, at least not negatively.  
"And...those dreams are not unpleasant at all." He paused, letting his statement sink in. He was gently caressing her hands now, a gesture that they had exchanged many times, especially in their most intimate moments. He realized that he did so just as much to soothe his own nerves as much as to calm hers.  
"Are those the sorts of dreams that you are having?" he inquired quietly.  
When there was no immediate response, he disclaimed, "Not that I think that you would be attracted to me... in that kind of way. Dreams can be just that: Dreams..."

Scully delicately stroked his hands with her thumbs. She halted, seemingly pondering whether to take the leap.  
Mulder felt his heart racing in his chest. Her answer could be what they needed to break this stalemate, this hump that they just couldn't get over. Could she really feel the same way about him that he felt about her? He sometimes got the impression that she thought him attractive, but would she actually dream about him "in that kind of way"? He didn't dare imagine. The thought sent chills of both fear and excitement down his spine.  
Her gaze didn't waver when she finally answered, with a blooming smile on her face that crept into her clear blue eyes and made them sparkle. "Let's just say that I think it's remotely plausible that someone might think you're hot."  
Mulder responded to the little inside joke, the nod to a quote that he had seemingly made in passing during their first year together, with a boyish smile.

His hands wandered down to her waist, gingerly holding her in place. _Don’t go anywhere_ , he pleaded quietly.  
Every pore of her porcelain skin, every faint freckle. He wanted to take it all in up-close, because he knew that once their lips met, he wouldn't be able to stop himself.  
The electricity between them was now stronger than ever, their own little vortex.  
Torn between his desire to savor the moment ( _the_ moment) and his need to lean in and kiss her, Mulder felt like he was going to explode.

After seconds of pining that stretched into eternity, Mulder finally surrendered, lowering his head for a rendezvous with her lips. Her lips followed suit, first enveloping him in a passionate kiss, then their tongues joined in the exploration of this new but still so familiar territory.  
They knew each other so well that they had always known what it would be like to be this intimate, but the feeling was still overwhelming in its intensity.  
His hand, which had been resting on her cheek, found its way into her hair. Her hands were holding on to the back of his neck.

Neither of them could or wanted to stop, but, eventually, they had to part for breath.  
They could feel each other's hearts beat rapidly.  
Mulder sounded downright winded. "Wow!" was the only thing he could utter.

Scully’s face was glowing, but Mulder saw uncertainty in her eyes.  
"Something wrong?" he murmured.  
She replied, "No, it's just... I know it sounds silly, but can you pinch me? I feel like I'm having one of my dreams."  
Mulder smiled cheekily. "Your wish is my command."  
And, without hesitation, he swiftly nipped the skin on her butt through the fabric of her skirt.  
Scully jumped. "Ouch!" she protested dramatically, but she was clearly thrilled by his boldness.  
"Mulder, did you just pinch my ass?" She scolded with a smirk playing around her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed. - At least the ones Mulder could see. He tried hard not to think about the rest of her body hiding beneath her suit and how easily he could reach out and touch it. Later.  
"No, Scully. I wouldn't _dream_ of doing that." Mulder winked, as he pulled her closer.  
At first, it appeared as if she was leaning in to kiss him, but her lips slid past his cheek close enough to his earlobe that they were almost touching it.  
"I kind of liked that," she breathed, her husky voice reverberating in his brain and warmly radiating through his body.

"Scully, I fear that this is not the right place to get 'cheeky'," he joked. "Let's wrap things up and go to my place. What do you say?" He gave her a quick flirty eyebrow raise.  
Scully decisively shook her head, but her blissful smile didn't falter. "No offense, Mulder, but your apartment is a mess. We're going to my place."  
The sexiness in her playfully commanding tone made Mulder giddy with anticipation. She knew what she wanted.  
"And Mulder, _I'm_ driving." With those words, she grabbed her coat, got up, and left.  
Mulder was momentarily frozen in amazement. When he had envisioned what making the first move could lead to, he had had no idea what Scully had in store for him.  
This was one of the few times that he had to run to catch up with his petite partner.  
Maybe, sometimes you just had to dream in color.


End file.
